


the same way I think of you

by girlmarauders



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Polyamory, Remembering the Summer of Like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 10:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21372481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarauders/pseuds/girlmarauders
Summary: prompt 3: Pete/Mikey "This empty place inside of me is filling up"
Relationships: Mikey Way/Pete Wentz
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16
Collections: No Tags Fall 2019





	the same way I think of you

Pete’s house was always loud and active, untidy but not dirty, toys and books and all kinds of shit spread all over the place. Meagan and Pete would clean, so it never felt like the true grime Mikey was acquainted with from living with Gerard but it felt chaotic and bright and happy - all but the last of those was Pete to a T. Maybe it was Pete now. They’d had a long phase recently of not being in touch, something that happened semi-regularly now. It didn’t worry Mikey exactly, because every time in the past they’d fallen back into being friends quickly and easily, but there was always a small part of him that thought they were new people, in new, strange bodies, and the Pete and Mikey he remembered were gone. It has never come true yet, and Pete had texted him a week ago, asking to come over and have dinner with him and Meagan, and every day since then Pete had texted him, or called, or come over to his house, to play old songs in Mikey’s basement music room and have a quiet smoke in the backyard. 

Meagan was in the hall, Marvel Jane in her arms, and a toy in the other, Marvel trailing a blanket from her arms onto the floor. 

“Oh hey,” Meagan said, hitching Marvel higher in his arms. “Pete’s in his studio. Could you tell him I’m taking Jane and Saint out?”

There was the sound of a child yodeling happy from further down the hall, and Meagan made a face. Mikey laughed

“That’s my cue I guess, see you later!” she said, and Marvel watched Mikey curiously over Meagan’s shoulder, chewing at her blanket, as Meagan ran off to find out what Saint was doing. It was the normal sort of greeting in Pete’s house. There was always something happening, someone underfoot, whether it was work for the label or new music or the kids, and always Pete and Meagan in the centre of it. 

Pete’s studio was a little one room deal in the basement of their house, set into the hill. Pete was sitting cross-legged in the big chair, humming to himself and tapping a pen, staring off into the distance. Mikey knocked on the door frame gently, but Pete still jumped at the sound. 

“Oh hey man,” he said. He was wearing his hair long now, and it dragged at the top of his hoodie, way too big with him and faded with too many washes. 

“What’cha working on?” Mikey said, leaning in the doorway. Pete shrugged. 

“Nothing important,” he said. “Just thinking. Why, you wanna play something for a while?”

Mikey shook his head. He played every now and then, to stay in practice and because Gerard liked to play with him, but it wasn’t a hobby for him, exactly. And he knew the band would be back together soon. Gerard had started making noises about it, and sketching things he didn’t show Mikey, which was a sure sign that he was bored with his current projects, and feeling restless, and would probably get it into his head soon to ask Frank, which was the only barrier. He wanted to save his energy for playing for when that happened. 

“You’re the one who asked me over man,” he said. “What do you want to do?”

Pete tossed the notebook in his lap onto the bit of desk next to the soundboard and leaned back in his chair, stretching and smiling 

“Meg was saying she was gonna take the kids out,” he said. “I thought we could take advantage of the edibles we made last weekend, huh? Get high, watch some cartoons, cuddle?” 

Mikey smiled. Their favorite things aligned pretty regularly. 

“Sounds good,” he said. They went upstairs, bumping into each other on the stairs, ribbing each other about being old men. They had a lot of old shared jokes now, layers of them that didn’t seem to end, and they could talk about nothing for hours, without effort. They lay in Pete’s huge bed, piled on pillows, and watched old X-Men cartoons, getting high and giggling at each other. 

The bed smelled like Pete and Meagan, the warm human smell of them, familiar, and eventually they ran out of cartoons and Mikey buried his face in one of the pillows, sleepy and warm. He was drifting, not quite asleep, Pete’s body warm next to his. He didn’t know how long he dosed for, but when he blinked his eyes open, Pete had Bojack on the TV on mute, subtitles on, and was propped up next to him. 

“Hey,” he said, quietly, looking up at Pete, and then ran a hand over his face. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

One of Pete’s hands fell down to pet Mikey’s hair. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You feeling alright?”

Mikey nodded. 

“Just wiped. Kennedy’s been keeping us up,” he said. 

Pete smiled, the fond smile he got whenever they talked about kids. Pete was a natural with them, in a way that Mikey had envied when Bronx was born. 

“Look at us man,” Pete said. “Old guys getting kept up by their kids. When did that happen?”

Mikey laughed a little. It had snuck up on both of them. He could hear sound from the hallway, filtering through the closed door.

"Meagan's back?" He asked. 

"Yeah," Pete said. "Wanna stay for dinner?' 

Mikey shook his head. 

"I told Kristin I'd be back," he said. He was a little more awake now, blinking the damp crust from his eyes. He didn't want to move yet, warm in Pete and Meagan's bed, in the not yet broken moment of close quietness. 

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Pete settled a little deeper into the bed, his leg pressed against Mikey's under the comforter. He sighed, deeply, and Mikey turned a little to see his face, clearly about to say something on his mind.

“Why did we break up?” Pete said, raised up on one elbow looking down at Mikey, and Mikey had one of those strange intense memories swim up to him out of the lake of the past, Pete’s younger face looking at him at they held each other on a sofa on a tour bus, the night sky dark as they drove on. 

“Because we didn’t want to stay together,” Mikey said. At the time, in the ancient history of their past, he had thought there were many other reasons, each more complicated than the last, but now he thought that cut through the Gordian Knot rather neatly. They hadn’t wanted to be together, so they had stopped. Whatever it was, the effort, the maelstroms of their own minds and addictions, the shivering fear of being outed, it had all been too much for them, so they had both, separately, decided to have a friendship instead. Mikey didn’t have any regrets about it, not anymore. There were worse things he had done to regret. 

"I've been thinking," Pete said, and Mikey thought that maybe only a few people had seen Pete's face like this, the way he was when he wasn't sure about something. "I think I want to try again Mikey."

Mikey exhaled hard, feeling it all leave his lungs. Pete smiled at him. Pete's smile had made Mikey do all kinds of stupid shit in his life, and even now his stomach flipped over to have it turned on him. Mikey wanted Pete's attention, his affection, his addicting hyper-focus. 

"Pete," Mikey said quietly, looking up at him. He'd loved Pete fiercely for one summer, and then forever since then as his friend. Did he want to try again? It would be easy maybe, as easy as falling asleep in a familiar bed, as easy as starting the band again, as easy as anything you were meant to do was. 

Pete leaned down and kissed him, gently, just his dry mouth pressing against his carefully, and then pulled away.

"Think about it," he said. 

&&&

He drove home, thinking about it, and ate dinner, the chaotic normalcy of eating with kids familiar now, and stared blankly at the book he was reading on the sofa, while Kristin watched TV, thinking about it the whole time.

"Babe," he said, finally, when he'd turned it over in his own head for long enough. Kristin paused the TV, and raised her eyebrows at him. She knew he'd been thinking about something.

"Yeah?" She said, pulling her feet up on the sofa, obviously settling in to listen. 

"Uh, Pete asked me about something. He said he'd been thinking about us, well, about us dating again," he said, running his hand nervously through the long hair on the top of his head. "I said I'd think about it, but I," he paused, and then shook his head. "I've got no clue what I think about it."

"What's different?" She said. "You didn't seem this worried last time you dated." 

It was a fair question. Mikey wracked his brains to think of a way to put it into words.

“Uh, I guess it feels kinda different, cause’s it’s Pete," he said. 

"I always kinda thought would you date again," Kirstin said. "He's your best friend."

That pulled Mikey up short. Pete didn’t feel like a best friend - any of the things people relied on their best friends for, Mikey would have asked Gerard. Pete was more like the weather; always there, but more or less present on different days, in seasons of his choosing. But he had been there through Mikey's life for a long time now, like best friends were.

Kristin stood up and came over to kiss his forehead.

"Whatever you decide is good babe, you know that," she said. He hadn't really been asking for permission, and she knew that, just like she knew it helped to have someone say it was fine. "Don't stay up too late." 

Mikey nodded, and he listened. He toyed with his phone a little, thinking about texting Pete, but eventually just climbed into bed, already warm from Kristin's body. The decision was a warm coal in stomach, a small exciting fire he kept to himself. 

He didn't see Pete the next day. Mikey had some meetings, and then he went over to Gerard's and hung out. Gerard was definitely thinking about getting the band together, and he thought he was being subtle about it. They talked about comics for a while. Gerard was a reliable source of advice, especially when Mikey was stuck, or unsure, and they bickered easily for a few hours about old comics storylines. 

Afterwards, Mikey sat in his car in the driveway, looking at his phone. He'd told Kristin he'd be home late, he might as well use the time for something.

_whatre you doing_ he texted Pete. His answer popped up right away. 

_enjoying the empty house_  
_come over _

Mikey turned on the car. They were doing this. All his memories of hooking up with Pete were tinged with the knowledge that it had all eventually been nothing. But when he thought about it now, without the bitterness, he could remember the thrill, the excitement and strange joy. He could remember the electricity of Pete's hands on him, and kissing each other endlessly, making out for hours.

He wanted to do it all again, a second honeymoon period, now that they were older. He wanted to see how Pete's body had changed, he wanted to know how they'd both changed.

He parked in Pete's garage, and range his doorbell, not wanting to wander in like he normally did. He wanted Pete to open the door. 

The door swung inward, and there was Pete, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, in his barefeet. 

"Mikey?" Pete asked, when Mikey didn't move.

"I want to try again," Mikey blurted, stepping into Pete's personal space.

He smiled, a wide satisfied grin, and Mikey reached out to pull him close. He had to bend to kiss him, but when their mouths touched, Pete's arms wrapping around him, it felt familiar. 


End file.
